Don’t Dance With What God Despises

The hardening that happened in King Solomon’s life toward the end, as close to God as he once was, can happen to us, too. How? When we began to love things that God hates, we have entered the danger zone of spiritual drift. When, like Solomon we insist on loving “foreign women”, whatever that is for us—questionable things that do not honor God or promote kingdom values—we will soon be giving our worship to their gods. Perhaps there is no greater exercise that you could do today than to honestly evaluate your own mindsets and practices, then courageously dump what you shouldn’t be doing.

Going Deep // Focus: 1 Kings 11:1-4

Now King Solomon loved many foreign women. Besides Pharaoh’s daughter, he married women from Moab, Ammon, Edom, Sidon, and from among the Hittites. The Lord had clearly instructed the people of Israel, “You must not marry them, because they will turn your hearts to their gods.” Yet Solomon insisted on loving them anyway. He had 700 wives of royal birth and 300 concubines. And in fact, they did turn his heart away from the Lord. In Solomon’s old age, they turned his heart to worship other gods instead of being completely faithful to the Lord his God, as his father, David, had been.

I would like to think that ultimately, Solomon made it to heaven. I hope to see in the eternal kingdom this incredibly wise man who is responsible for penning a good portion of the wisdom literature that we now enjoy from the Bible. And there in heaven, if speaking of the former things is even a worthwhile exercise (which I doubt, given that the focus will be on the indescribable glory of God and the unending joys of our heavenly reward), I would love to compare notes with the wisest man who ever lived on how God’s mercy rescued us both from our self-inflicted plunges (yes, the plural is correct since some of us do it early and often) from grace.

In Ecclesiastes, a book many evangelical scholars believe that King Solomon authored toward the end of his life, we find this very simple yet prophetically profound line: “Finishing is better than starting.” (Ecclesiastes 7:8) I just wish Solomon had heeded that advice the closer he got to the finish line. Solomon didn’t; his love for God drifted toward things that God despised. Over time, his fascination with foreign women turned into an addiction for even more women, along with the worship of their gods:

King Solomon loved many foreign women … He insisted on loving them anyway. (1 Kings 11:1-2)

Predictably, Solomon’s fleshly desires gave birth to sinful patterns which produced deadly results: he drifted from his faithful allegiance to the one true God, his heart hardened, and the forces that would ultimately remove the blessings that God had bestowed upon him (prosperity, power, impact for himself and the nation of Israel) were unleashed. (see James 1:14-15) Because of God’s loving patience, divine punishment would not afflict the nation just yet; that would come in the next generation which would take Solomon’s spiritual drift and plunge headlong into even greater rebellion against the Lord. (1 Kings 11:9-13)

So now the Lord said to him, “Since you have not kept my covenant and have disobeyed my decrees, I will surely tear the kingdom away from you and give it to one of your servants. But for the sake of your father, David, I will not do this while you are still alive. I will take the kingdom away from your son.” (1 Kings 11:11-12)

One of the practices of application to which scripture calls current readers is to consider stories like this as warnings to us. What happened to Solomon, as close to God as he once was, can happen to us, too. How? When we began to love things that God hates, we have entered the danger zone of spiritual drift. When we insist on loving “foreign women”, whatever that is for us—questionable things that do not honor God or promote kingdom values—we will soon be giving our worship to their gods. A generation or two ago, our forefathers who came out of the holiness movement referred to this as worldliness. Unfortunately, many from that movement became rigid and legalistic in their faith, and the next generation of believers reacted by going to the other extreme; we threw the holiness baby out with the legalistic bathwater. Today, the boundaries of holy living are pretty blurred.

To accurately apply Solomon’s spiritual demise calls from us for a truly open heart, the exercise of spiritual discernment, and a willingness to love God above all else. Solomon’s story ought to soberly remind us of what can happen when we insist on loving what God insists on hating. Perhaps there is no greater exercise that you could do today than to honestly evaluate your own mindsets and practices, then courageously dump what you shouldn’t be doing.

I would like to think in Solomon’s life that God’s grace got the last word, but since we don’t know for sure, when it comes to you and me, why chance it!